


They're All Wax. Everyone.

by hstevens5



Category: House of Wax (2005), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Angst, Canon-Typical Behavior, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, F/M, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Non-Canonical Violence, Original Character(s), POV Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, References to Supernatural (TV), SPN AU & Trope Bingo, SPN Cinema Genre Challenge, SPN Hiatus Creations 2019, SPN Horror Minibang, Sam Winchester (mentioned) - Freeform, Sam Winchester Knows, Spoilers, Supernatural Elements, Survival Horror, house of wax - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23440135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hstevens5/pseuds/hstevens5
Summary: Dean and Y/N investigate the disappearance of some college kids in the small town of Ambrose, only for Y/N to be captured and hurt. Dean looks for her and finds unimaginable horrors.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & You, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I changed the plot a bit, because some of it would not make sense if the main character was Dean Winchester. Just saying…Also this isn’t the whole movie. Do you want a part II? Let me know!
> 
> Spoilers for House of Wax (2005) below  
> Warnings: horror thematic elements, swearing,

**Dean** was just getting into town as the sun was making its descent. The little town was surrounded by rough terrain and flooded gullies, forcing Dean to park the Impala and walk his way toward town, noting that your Dodge Charger was also parked near the faded ‘Welcome’ sign, the lettering faded and nonexistent.

You hadn’t been answering your phone and Dean began to get worried, as you had split up to investigate the disappearance of some people in town. A couple of college kids were heading up toward the small town of Ambrose, Louisiana, where people were mysteriously vanishing and you figured you'd try to warn them before something bad happened. You were better with people than Dean and it was decided that you would traverse into town and interview the residents about the disappearances. It was rumored that these kids were camping a few miles south of town, so Dean headed in that direction, where he ran into a beat-up pickup truck parked near a pile of rotted animal corpses, the smell overpowering his senses.

Dean, of course, got stuck talking to the hick in the shitty pickup truck who apparently only chucked dead animal carcasses from the side of the road, and dribbled chew down his face. The hick had nothing interesting to say and when Dean left the guy to his dirty work, he realized he hadn’t heard from you in a few hours.

“Son of a bitch.” He muttered glancing down at his phone and seeing no missed calls or texts, before clicking on your name and listening to the phone ring. The call was quickly forwarded to your answering machine, your bright voice instructing the caller to call Dean or “Sammy.” He huffed out a sigh and hurried back to the car, slamming the door and speeding toward the town.

______________________

 **Dean** required hourly check-ins when he was working a case with you without Sam, and you not following his rule made him anxious. He knew he was being overbearing, but he was really just being cautious. You were a good hunter, great even, but you weren’t his brother and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if you got hurt while you were with him. Truth was, he felt more responsible for you than you knew, and the fact that he wasn’t with you right now was driving him crazy.

He shook the thoughts roughly from his mind and kept walking, his boot thuds echoing off of the vacant store fronts. None of the stores had lights on and there was one lone streetlight shining brightly onto the wet pavement. The entire scene made Dean uneasy and he walked a little faster toward the only store that looked open.

The service station at least had its lights on, and the sign advertised gas for a $1.19, which was comical, and showed the true colors of the ancient town. As Dean kept approaching the station, he began to hear footsteps behind him, trying their best to stay quiet. He gripped his gun tightly and spun around pointing the barrel right between the eyes of the guy who was sneaking up on him.

“Woah, woah woah!” He yelled raising his hands, clearly not expecting Dean to be carrying a weapon. The guy was dressed modernly in a hoodie and loose fitted jeans and stood out against the ancient store fronts.

“Hey man,” the guy continued raising his hands a little higher. “I’m just looking for my sister and her boyfriend.” Dean raised his eyebrows, but kept his gun raised, pointing instead at the guy’s chest.

“And?” Dean asked gruffly, making sure the kid knew he wasn’t about to back down without some more information.

“And my name’s Nick. My sister Carley and her boyfriend Wade came up here a couple hours ago and I haven’t been able to reach them on their cells.” Dean nodded at him once, sticking his gun back into his belt, recognizing the names from the information he knew already.

“Dean.” He stated nodding over his shoulder so Nick would follow. “I had a friend come up here a few hours ago as well, and I haven’t heard from her.” The two continued to walk toward the service station, when a guy dressed all in black, a cap hanging low over his eyes, walked out of the front entrance and locked the door behind him.

“Hey!” Dean called, glancing at Nick and approaching the guy slowly. The guy turned, shocked, before quickly turning his face into a smirk.

“We’re looking for some people. A young couple and a woman. You seen ‘em around?” The guy turned to walk away stating, “I don’t think I’ve seen ‘em.”

“Well, you don’t even know who they are or what they look like.” Dean wasn’t taking that for an answer, and he walked to stand in the guy’s way when Nick spoke up.

“This is the only gas station in town, right?”

The guy stopped briefly, heading to the open garage door. “That’s right.” He closed the door with a click, leaning on it and putting his hand on his hip, glancing up the street.

Dean sighed, annoyed. “Look man, they were here somewhere. Why don’t you just help us out and make this easy.” Dean was getting agitated by the way the guy was acting and didn’t trust him or his dingy hat as far as he could throw them.

“Like I said. I haven’t seen ‘em. Sorry. Can’t help ya.” The guy lumbered over to us staring down Nick as he walked, before turning around sharply to tie his shoe.

He pointed up the road. “You know what. My brother Vincent was down here a bit ago. He might’ve seen ‘em. He’ll be up at the house.” Dean turned to look where he was pointing, up the dark street. When he turned back around the guy was upright again looking smug.

“Wanna head up to the house?”

"Dean weighed his options before speaking, but Nick beat him to it. “Yeah. Whatever.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, looking at Nick, before stating gruffly, “lead the way.”

__________________________

 **You** groaned, picking your head up slowly from the ground, the world quickly coming into focus making your head spin. You gripped it with one hand and pushed yourself to a sitting position with the other, hissing when your weight pressed down on your wrist, which was clearly sprained.

You hadn’t been in the town for more than a few minutes when something heavy hit you in the back of the head and you blacked out fall face first into the dirt.

You moved to open your mouth to take a deep breath and felt your lips resist. It felt like they had been glued shut and moving your finger to try to wrench your mouth open caused your body to shoot with pain. You groaned again and looked around, suddenly meeting the eye of a young girl climbing on top of a chair toward a closed grate in the floor.

She looked at you, eyes wide, and you nodded your head encouragingly, standing on wobbly legs, your head pounding. She reached as far as she could, sticking a finger through one of the holes waving at what you realized were muffled voices from outside.

You approached her slowly, when suddenly she wrenched her hand back toward her, blood spurting out wildly from a missing finger on her left hand. Her screams were muffled from her trapped lips, and you rushed toward her helping her stop the bleeding with one hand, while pulling your lips together roughly, feeling them split and the blood trickle down your lips. You finished tearing your mouth open when you heard a familiar gruff voice.

“Dean!” You screamed as loud as your lungs would allow. “I’m down here!”

_______________________________

 **Dean** spun around wildly, hearing his name called from below. He reached into the back of his pants for his gun but when he turned back the guy had disappeared into the dark street. Dean swore under his breath focusing on the task as hand and headed toward the unlocked garage door, wrenching it open loudly. The wooden door to the room downstairs was locked, but Dean kicked it in easily, seeing Y/N covered in blood holding a young woman as she sobbed quietly. Both women’s faces were bleeding, and Dean rushed forward grabbing Y/N by the shoulders looking into her exploded pupils.

“Are you okay?” He asked gruffly, looking her over. She nodded, gasping quietly, and pointed at the young girl, who Nick was checking over. Dean watched them rip her lips open and he winced seeing them tear to match Y/N’s. Looking around the room quickly, it looked like the guy had super glued their mouths shut before heading upstairs. Dean grabbed Y/N’s hand glancing at her and pulled her up the stairs, Nick and Carley following slowly, Nick bearing much of Carley’s weight.

“The Impala is parked next to your car, let’s get back over there quickly.” Dean stated, hating the idea of leaving that man alive, but recognizing the tell-tale signs of blood loss, as Carley wrapped her missing finger in the torn bottom of the shirt she was wearing. Y/N was staring blankly forward, clearly concussed, and was having trouble standing on her own. Dean inched his arm over her shoulders and held her to him protectively.

“What about the other kids?” Y/N asked weakly, trying not to move her mouth much.

“What about Wade?” Carley suddenly yelled. “What if he turns him to wax?!”

Dean stopped in his tracks looking back at Carley, his arm still gripping around Y/N’s shoulders tightly.

“What do you mean wax?” He asked, furrowing his brow.

“You don’t get it!” She shouted back. “They’re all wax! Everyone.”

She turned roughly and stared out the window.

“No. Wait.” Suddenly she was out the door and down the street, Dean, Y/N, and Nick following her close.

“There was a woman in here,” she stated quietly, checking left and right down the street, before running up to the faded picket fence in front of the dilapidated house. Dean gripped Y/N’s shoulders as she approached, her legs still wobbly from not being used. We approached the picket fence and Nick jumped over it to get close to the curtained windows peering in, the buzz of a TV the only sound heard.

“She pulled back the curtain,” Carley stated, standing back with Dean and you. Nick looked in closely, jumping back startled when a woman suddenly pulled back the curtain. She had white hair pulled up into curlers and her dead eyes stared unseeing out into the distance. Even from this far back Dean could tell the woman wasn’t alive from the unnatural tinge of her skin.

“The whole town is rigged.” Carley said hopelessly.

“That’s impossible.” Nick stated, staring at the woman as she exited view slowly, the curtain falling back into place, dust whispering against the glass. Minutes later, the woman appeared again, gears grinding harshly on the mechanism that pushed her toward the window.

Nick peeked into the house again. “You’re saying that’s a real person…underneath?”

“Yes,” Carley responded anxiously. “At the church they were all like that. 20 people at least.”

Y/N suddenly wobbled under her own weight, her knees giving out. Dean gripped her shoulders harder, yanking her to a standing position.

“Guys,” He started, glancing at Nick and Carley. “We need to get out of here.” Y/N’s eyes started to droop, and Dean looked at her quickly.

“Now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Y/N investigate the disappearance of some college kids in the small town of Ambrose, only for Y/N to be captured and hurt. Dean looks for her and finds unimaginable horrors.

**You** felt your knees giving out and your eyes beginning to droop, wanting nothing more than to succumb to the feeling that closing your eyes would give. Your entire body began to ache, but you felt Dean’s arm snake around your shoulders protectively, dragging you along with the group as they walked. You heard the voices of the others, but the pain in your head was intensifying and all you wanted was to lay down on the ground and sleep for a while. Anything to get rid of the pain behind your eyes. You began to let your body go slack when you felt Dean’s arm tighten.

“Y/N.” He muttered; his lips close to your ear. He pulled you back up to a standing position, bearing much of your weight against his side. “Sweetheart. You have to keep your eyes open, okay?”

You nodded your head lightly, focusing on the leather boots you were wearing as they clomped loudly against the cement, Dean practically dragging you along. You were all stopped in the middle of the road, Carley and her brother both checking the bright screens of their phones.

“Shit.” Nick scoffed, putting the phone back into his pocket, Carley mimicking his movements.

Dean balanced you against his shoulder and reached into his own pocket, drawing out his phone.

“No service.” He muttered more to himself, gnawing down on his bottom lip as he thought, glancing at you quickly with a pained expression.

____________________________________________

 **Dean** knew he wouldn’t be able to carry you all the way to the car in the state you were in, and without cell service he wouldn’t be able to get ahold of Sam for help. And with that jerk from the service station still out there it wasn’t safe to be standing in the middle of the deserted street with nothing but Dean’s gun to protect them. He had checked Y/N quickly for her gun but didn’t find it. Suddenly he remembered something the guy had said.

“He said he had a brother, right?” Dean asked, looking directly at Nick.

“Yeah,” Nick nodded. “Vincent.”

Carley chimed in saying, “at the House of Wax, he did all the sculptures. He’s gotta be the one who does the wax. What if he’s around here somewhere?” She added looking anxious, glancing toward the sickly pale building we saw advertisements for on the way into town. _Trudy’s House of Wax_. 

Dean stood you solidly in the middle of the road, making sure you wouldn’t fall over, before turning around in the general direction the guy had pointed and seeing a giant house on a hill. He wasn’t one to take risks with the lives of the people he was trying to protect, but they didn’t have a lot of options with no wheels, little to no weapons, and down a hunter. He made the decision for them all and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, securing you tightly to him before walking down the empty streets. Nick and Carley followed silently behind. As you all continued down the street Nick veered off toward a store front, and Dean read his mind instantly, turning you sharply to follow.

“Nick.” Carley said glancing around. “What are you doing? You gotta be careful.” She gripped her injured hand tightly running after Nick faster than Dean could while carrying Y/N.

“I am being careful.” Nick answered gruffly, moving to throw a wrench through the store front window when Carley stopped his movement.

“It’ll make too much noise!” She yell-whispered at him. “Why do you have to be so damn stubborn? He’ll find us.”

“Yeah chances are he will anyways.” Nick answered glancing back at Dean who nodded in agreement.

“At least with this,” Dean gestured toward the crossbow in the window while removing his own gun, “he might not want to find us.” Dean nodded at Nick to continue and he reached back his arm chucking the wrench through the glass, shattering it, both women cringing at the noise. Nick jumped through the open window and gripped the crossbow in his arms tightly, glancing back at us standing in the street behind him.

His eyes went wide as the glass on the door next to him shattered with the echo of a shotgun.

“Run!” Nick yelled grabbing Carley by the arm and rushing into the next building over.

Dean tore around sharply staring down the man with the grimy hat, his eyes trained on the shotgun scope having quickly reloaded the weapon. Dean didn’t think twice before grabbing you roughly and launching both of you through the doors of the movie theater, firing off a few rounds, before another burst of shrapnel shattered the theater doors.

__________________________________________________________

 **You** didn’t have time to think about your head injury as Dean was gripping your wrist tightly tossing you through the doors of the theater. You crawled from your hands and knees, Dean grabbing your waist and pushing you to stand position before you entered the theater from the lobby, having nowhere else to run.

Nick and Carley rushed in ahead of you, jumping as the lights rose up and the movie started playing. The theater was half full of stagnant long-dead humans sitting upright in chairs enjoying _What Ever Happened to Baby Jane_ playing on the screen, the eery title number echoing off of the dust covered walls.

“I’ve written a letter to daddy…” Bette Davis sang, the pleased faces of the frozen audience mocking us.

“Come on.” Dean whispered pulling you down into a seat near the middle of the theater, him rushing further down and crouching into a seat. You didn’t dare move your head but noticed movement out of the corner of your eye, indicating that Carley and Nick did the same. The doors behind you all whispered open, the man from outside stepping in, letting the doors close with a creak.

“I know you’re in here.” He stated, the wax figure attendant with the flashlight uttering a recorded “shushing” noise in response. The man continued down the rows, poking random people with his shotgun, making sure they were wax.

Other random recorded human sounds emerged throughout the theater, a cough in one direction catching the man off guard, and he whipped around pointing his gun wildly, before returning to meander down the aisle. You began to sweat as you could feel him getting closer and closer to where you were attempting to sit as still as possible your head pounding. You saw movement next to you as the man shoved a wax figure that had similar Y/H/C hair as you did, only for the figure to topple over uselessly.

The movie continued a piano melody playing as the man approached the front of the theater where you knew the glow of the movie would give your faces away.

___________________________________

 **Dean** stood crouched down waiting for an open shot of the shadowed figure walking toward him. He raised his gun just as the man spotted Y/N sitting in the middle of the theater. A shot rang out and Y/N ducked at the last second, the shrapnel hitting the figure immediately behind her, shattering the head into a million pieces. Dean pulled the trigger on his gun winging the guy who fell to the floor, quickly reloading the shotgun. Dean threw himself up the aisle grabbing Y/N by the hand, hoping Nick and Carley were following them, when a shot rang out exploding the projector above their heads, which sparked and sputtered out, leaving the movie theater bathed in darkness.

You turned just inside of the lobby and waited for Nick and Carley to exit, before shoving Y/N out the door after them. Dean waited for the man to emerge, slowly creeping toward the theater doors, his hands locked on his gun. He nudged the doors open with his foot and grabbed the flashlight off of the wax figure nearest the door, shining the light in, but saw no sign of the man he’d just shot. He contemplated searching the rest of the building when he heard commotion outside before a slight “Dean” was yelled.

Dean pushed open the doors and exited the theater into the cool night, his breath hitching at the scene before him.

He stopped in his tracks and watched as you clutched your right shoulder with your hand, blood seeping from the open wound. Your face was twisted in agony and Nick had his arm on your non-injured shoulder having just noticed your injury. Dean rushed over, removing his canvas jacket and the flannel he was wearing pressing it roughly into the wound, attempting to stop the bleeding.

“I guess I zigged when I should have zagged.” You muttered more to yourself than anyone, but Dean chuckled lowly, tying the sleeves of the flannel under your armpits and pulling it snug. You winced and looked up at him your eyes guarded and angry. Dean reached down and pulled his jacket back on before heading back down the street toward the dark house on the hill.

“Is there anybody left alive in this town?” Nick asked out loud looking up and down the streets again.

“What about this Vincent guy?” Carley questioned gripping onto Nick’s hand.

“Who knows if there even is a Vincent.” Dean answered lowly, glancing at Y/N who was staring off, lost in thought. “We gotta get out of this place.” He finished.

“What about Wade and our other friends? We can’t just leave them behind.” Carley asked from behind, making Dean stop and turn to look at her. They were getting closer to the house and needed to stop to make a plan before running in halfcocked.

“Alright,” Dean began glancing at Y/N who was gripping her shoulder. He looked around him taking in his surroundings. “This is what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna go up to the house and see if I can get that truck started. Y/N, you take Nick and Carley back to the road and I’ll meet ya’ll there.”

Y/N looked at Dean and her eyes flashed. “No way. No. I’m not leaving you.” Dean turned frustrated and stared into her eyes matching their intensity.

“Why do you have to be so…” He began his temper flaring. Y/N stood up taller meeting his gaze.

“Damn stubborn?” She answered for him, with a raise of her eyebrows. Dean took in a long breath and let out a sigh before answering, knowing he wasn’t going to win this argument.

“Okay. We stick together.”

_____________________________________

 **You** and Dean took off one direction toward the truck, watching Carley and Nick as they headed up toward the house, after Dean insisted that they wait there and not go inside. Nick was the only other one with a weapon, which made Dean feel better about leaving the duo alone.

The ancient yellow truck sputtered and coughed when Dean tried to start the engine and his fist slammed down on the steering wheel as he muttered out a quiet “son of a bitch.” He got out of the truck and you both headed up toward the front door to meet up with Carley and Nick who were lost in a whispered conversation.

“Wade went into that house and never came out.” Carley stated, her voice catching at the end.

“Alright,” Dean answered rubbing a hand down his face. “We’ll go in quick. Make a pass.” He stopped and looked hard at Nick. “If we can’t find your friends, we have to get the hell out of here.”

The brother and sister nodded their heads agreeing, and Dean took out his gun, gesturing for you to follow close behind him. The four of them approached the door quietly. Leaning up against the wall was a wooden bat and you gripped it placing it over your good shoulder, feeling more secure with a weapon, even if it was short range. Dean looked back and scoffed at your lightly. You raised your shoulders in a “what?” motion, wincing at the movement. A soft smile played at his lips and turned the knob of the door stepping slowly inside.

The door opened into a dark entryway. There was a phone on the wall that Carley picked up, a busy tone echoing through the handset, and she put it back on the hook uselessly. We ventured in further as the house opened up into a kitchen, living room, and side room with a pool table. You broke off, all four of you stepping into a different room when something white caught your eye.

“Dean.” You said quietly, starring into a glass case that held a small gun, and yours, an identical twin to Dean’s Colt that he bought you for your birthday a few years back. It was something you treasured and you felt guilty not having it in the back of your jeans as usual. You had noticed its absence instantly, but now knew the man had taken it off of you and you felt more violated than ever. Dean came over and reached for the bat in your hand, wrapping a towel around the end and smashing the glass case soundlessly, until it was nothing but iron bars between you and the gun.

“It’s bolted to the wall.” He stated, glancing at the back of the case. “Spread out and let’s look for a key.”

You instantly threw yourself into checking every drawer you could. It was stupid, but you weren’t leaving without that gun. You didn’t find much other than a few news articles about Siamese twins that were separated, a clue to the man and his brother’s identity, the names Bo and Vincent standing out to you. Before you could think too far into it the front door opened with a bang, and the man from before, Bo as you now knew him, stepped in, gripping his arm where Dean shot him. You crouched down under the pool table, glancing around for the others. Dean and Nick had walked up the stairs, but Carley was only a few feet away watching the man closely as he attempted to clean his wounds at the kitchen sink. When his back was turned, she hustled over to you and you put your arm around her protectively as you watched Bo. Seconds later, a truck pulled up and Carley glanced out the window, falling back with a gasp, her hand clutching her mouth wordlessly as tears slipped down her cheeks. You gripped her knee softly, eyes questioning her.

“It’s my other friends. They’re dead.” She whispered, before the door opened again and another man entered, this one wearing a mask giving his face an unnatural tint.

Bo approached the open door and started yelling. “Hey! You don’t ever leave without me. You know better than that. Don’t be so stupid!”

The other man, who you gathered to be Vincent, didn’t answer, merely approaching his brother slowly to help him tend to his wounds. The man waved him off with a harsh, “don’t!” muttering “fuckin’ freak,” below his breath as Vincent lit a candle, using the heat and wax to fix his face where a deep gash was. You were too tuned into the situation before you, you hadn’t noticed Dean motioning to you to head toward the stairs until Carley gripped your hand tightly. You hustled toward the stairs heading up and into a room with a trap door, Nick beckoning you all to follow him down.

“Dean, wait.” You stopped him, gripping his bicep. “My gun…” You muttered trailing off.

“Hey,” he started, putting a finger under your chin to force you to look at him. “It’s not a big deal, okay? We have to get these two out of here.” He look at you intently, his green eyes calming your guilt, before pushing you lightly forward to fall down the trap door, Nick catching you at the waist.

_____________________________________

 **Dean** didn’t hear the conversation from below, but he knew there were now two men downstairs, and Y/N was hurt badly. They needed to get out of this town and quickly. Him and Sam would figure out what to do later, once Y/N and these two kids were safe. He wasn’t sure where the trap door led, but followed behind Nick nonetheless, until it opened up into a workshop of sorts and they took a second to get their bearings.

Carley stopped and gripped her brother’s hand halting him. “I saw Paige and Blake’s bodies.” She glanced back at Dean and Y/N. “They’re dead.”

Nick nodded his head slowly like he already knew. “We have to get out of here.” He pulled her along and I wrapped my arm around Y/N carefully to avoid her shoulder.

As we moved forward we approached a figure that was perched on top of a contraption leaning against the back wall, that looked like it was encased in something that was dripping onto the floor. Nick stopped near the work bench and gripped a red hat in his hands, before approaching the figure.

“Dalton.” He stated. Dean glanced at Y/N as Nick looked into the figure’s eyes. “I’ll get you out of there.” Nick continued his voice cracking as he gripped onto the metal helmet the figure was wearing. Tugging it away, the contraption broke a sickening crunch erupting as the head fell off of the person’s body.

“No!” Carley cried, gripping roughly at her brother’s shirt. He hugged her silently, and Dean gave them a moment, hearing Carley’s pain at losing another friend so horrifically. Dean glanced up into Y/N’s eyes and again saw nothing but anger and fury, knowing it was affecting her to not be able to take these two men out herself.

Suddenly the masked man approached from around the corner, and Dean took his gun and aimed, the shot ringing out.

“That’s Vincent!” Carley screamed, the man taking the bullet to the shoulder, but not stopping, coming toward us full bore. He gripped roughly at the table in his way and shoved it toward Dean, who took it to the gut, his gun falling out of his hands as he fell to the floor. Vincent extracted two long machetes and Nick approached him, raising the crossbow before taking a cut to the arm and falling back. Dean got himself up off the ground, approaching Vincent with fire in his eyes and grabbed the man by the middle careful to avoid the long knife in his hand. Vincent fell to the floor, pushing the lever on a cauldron of wax, igniting a large fire that spilled over into the grates at our feet, trapping Vincent on one side and us all on the other.

“Come on!” Dean yelled grabbing my arm and rushing us toward the exit, emerging into the wax museum. The fires from below began to lick the surface of the wax floor, and we struggled to walk as the wax melted, Nick and Carley finding themselves stuck close to an exit next to a man posed playing the piano. Carley let out a cry, realizing it was her boyfriend Wade, half of his face missing. 

“Get out of here!” Dean yelled, pointing them toward the door behind them in the corner. The two glanced at you both before picking up their feet as best they could and trudging toward the door. Dean gripped your arm roughly and pulled you further into the museum looking for another exit. Turning a corner, you came face to face with Vincent’s brother, Bo, and Dean didn’t think twice before running straight at him, knocking him to the floor.

The two scuffled on the floor, both getting in a few punches before Bo extracted a knife and shoved it into Dean’s right thigh. He yelled out in pain, gripping at his leg as the man stepped back up with a smirk. You gripped tightly to the bat in your hands and sucked in a breath before slamming it roughly into the man’s face, knocking him to the floor, where he fell halfway into the wax. You hit him again and again the sound of his bones crunching fueling your anger until his face was unrecognizable. Dean sunk to the floor and you moved toward him, your feet resisting as they slipped in the sludge.

___________________________________________

 **You** took one step forward and Vincent rounded the corner, eyeing you, the dark holes of his mask an unreadable emotion. You panicked and ran up the stairs, Vincent following close, picking up his feet with ease.

“Don’t you hurt her!” Dean yelled from below, as you sprinted up the staircase emerging into a bedroom. Vincent entered slowly, approaching you with his knife drawn and you rounded the corner of the bed facing off with him. He rolled the knife from hand to hand looking for a fight after seeing the condition of his brother. You gripped the bat tightly preparing yourself when Dean burst through the door, shoving Vincent to the wax bed. The two struggled, Vincent attempting to stab his knife into Dean, when you spotted the one protruding from Dean’s leg. Acting fast you ripped it out of his thigh and shoved into the side of Vincent’s neck, effectively killing him, Dean shoving him roughly. When Vincent fell to the side a hole burst through the floor, flames fighting to emerge, and engulfing Vincent and his brother in the heat. Dean grabbed you and hobbled his way back down the stairs away from the flames engulfing the wax museum and leaving it a steaming pile of sludge.

______________________________________________

 **Dean** hobbled out to Carley and Nick who were sitting on the curb staring off in the distance, Nick’s arm draped around Carley’s shoulders. You approached, Dean muttering about both brothers being dead before you began the trek back toward the Impala, Y/N bearing much of Dean’s weight this time. He didn’t unclench his jaw until they made it back to the Impala. Once there, service miraculously returned to their phones and Dean used his fake FBI badge number to call in the fire department and explain away the murders. Carley and Nick leaned against the Charger listening intently, staring at Y/N, but she only shook her head, clearly not wanting to explain or give “the talk,” even if nothing about this hunt was supernatural. You got off the phone, explaining to Carley and Nick that the local cops were on their way to take statements and get them home safely when his phone started to ring.

“Yeah.” He answered, not even looking at the caller ID.

“Dean. Thank God.” Sam huffed out with a sigh. He sounded like he had been holding his breath for days and Dean instantly felt guilty realizing that was probably true when he hadn’t heard from him or Y/N.

“Are you okay? Is Y/N? What is going on?” Sam continued concern lacing his voice. Dean smiled for the first time in 12 hours hearing the familiarity of his brother’s concern.

“Yeah, Sammy.” Dean answered, glancing at Y/N, whose Y/H/C hair was shiny in the early morning sun. “We’re fine. We’re gonna leave here in a bit and catch up with you soon, alright?”

He heard Sam sigh into the phone. “Okay. Catch up soon.” Dean ended the call and walked over to Y/N placing his hand at her lower back and pulling her in, planting a kiss at her temple.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered into her hair, feeling guilty for allowing her to go off on her own. She shook her head slowly, looking up at him with striking Y/E/C eyes.

“Don’t do that.” She replied with a small smile, saying a quick goodbye to Carley and Nick, hugging Carley tight, before planting herself into the front seat of the Impala, planning to make someone else come get her car later.

Dean sighed heavily feeling the weight of the situation hit him all at once. He turned and gave Nick a quick pat on the back, thanking him and Carley and leaving them with his phone number, just in case. He nodded toward them before heading toward the Impala and stepping in hearing the familiar groan of the door.

“Well.” He started putting the key in the ignition, leaning his arm on the back of the bench seat as Y/N scooted over to cuddle against his side. “I’ll say it again…” He leaned over and placed another kiss against her forehead before pulling the car away from the faded ‘Welcome to Ambrose’ sign.

“Demons I get. People…. are crazy.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this fic consider supporting my writing through ko-fi! https://ko-fi.com/hstevens5
> 
> I also have multiple SPN stickers on my Redbubble site (hstevens5)
> 
> Thank you for your reading and support 😊


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